The Pitfalls of Being a Psychic
by Lady Crimson Star
Summary: Written in the style of THE PERKS OF BEING A WALLFLOWER, this story follows gifted Divination student Iris Darelle as she looks back to the path of mistakes that led to her social downfall. WARNING this story includes sex, drugs, alcohol, abuse and torture.


Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Harry Potter.

October 10, 1983

Dear Friend,

This is more of a confession than a letter because I don't know you, and you don't know me. Actually you may not even speak english properly, but that just makes it better. I don't need you to understand - i just need you to hear me out because I'm lonely and stressed.

My name isn't really important, but if you want you can call me Iris. I'm in my fourth year at Hogwarts and because of lousy things I've done in the past I have no friends. I guess I have to clue you in, because otherwise you might think I'm a good person.

Before I start the story of how I managed to mess up my whole life in two years time there are three very important things you have to know about me. First of all I am a Ravenclaw. Second of all my father is a muggle, and my mother is muggle born so I never really knew any magical kids when I was growing up. And most importantly of all I sense the future.

I know that you've probably been told that fortunetellers are fakes and liars but I swear to you I am not. I'm not saying that my predictions are clear, or that they always come true but I do swear to you they are real. It's not like in the muggle movies where it's like a vision, for me it's a strange feeling that seems to originate from my mind and then sweep down my body like water and then I just know something is goanna happen. But like I said it's not a 100% sure, not by a long shot, still I'm right more than half the time and that's something.

Well anyhow on the day I was set to go to Hogwarts I was super exited. I couldn't wait to meet other kids like me. And on the train compartment I met two of these kids. One was called Cynthia and I thought she was very nice, the other one was a strange boy called Charlie.

"So what house do you think you'll be in?" she asked us in a high pitched voice. Cynthia was a normal looking girl with long hair and a thin face. The only thing very peculiar about her was her very formal attire.

"Probably a Gryffindor like my parents," said the boy with a shrugg as he stared out of the window. "But maybe not - I might be a good Hufflepuff."

Cynthia snorted and then shot her eyes back at me. "How about you? Aren't you going to answer?"

"I really don't know."

"What are you're parents?"

"Dad's a Muggle and Mum was a Hufflepuff, but I don't think thats for me."

She smiled. "Well good think. I think Hufflepuff are very dull, no offense Charlie. It's just as people I don't think they're that interesting."

The boy didn't seem to mind at all but he did reach into his bag and pull out a book about dragons. I guess he didn't want to talk anymore.

Cynthia moved to the seat next to me and leaned in close, whispering in my ear, "I think red hair is really ugly." That should have really been my first warning that Cynthia has no regard for other people's feeling because that boy - that perfectly nice boy sitting just a foot away - had flaming red hair and no matter how quiet her whisper had been I was pretty sure he had heard.

I remember laughing. Not to be mean or anything but because I liked the way she spoke her mind. Then she pulled on a strand of my blonde hair and said "Blonde hair is the best, when you get older the boys will go crazy about it."

I thanked her although I wasn't sure why she should say such a thing. You see I'm over weight and always have been. Not obese or anything but fat enough that it's usually one of the key words when kids describe me. That also made me like Cynthia - no one had ever told me I might have a chance with boys before.

"I like your hair too," I said admiring the way her long dark hair fell in layers down to her hip.

She beamed at me and ran her hand over it. "Yeah, I work really hard to make it so shinny. Like my mother always tells me there is no such thing as natural beauty. It's all hard work." She giggled and leaned in close to my ear again, saying something about how ugly freckles were.

I could see Charlie flinch slightly as she said it and watched as he burried his face deeper in the book much to her amusement. By the time we got to school Cynthia had her arm locked in mine and she kept leaning close to me and criticizing other people which I'm now ashamed to say I found very funny.

Both of us were sorted pretty quickly because of our last names (Darelle, and Fay) and then we sat down and tried to guess who would get sorted into which house. Cynthia was almost always right. She inspected people closely, looked at their shoes and where they were staring or if they were talking and then she would make her final judgement. I simply guessed because like I said my 'powers' aren't by command, they come when they please and none came that day.

Finally the last person in our grade was to be sorted and believe it or not it was Charlie Weasley, with his dragon book still held in one hand. "I bet you he's a Hufflepuff - I told you he was a total looser."

And then a miraculous thing happened. Cynthia got it wrong. It took less than a minute for the hat to shout out "GRYFFINDOR" and then Charlie walked off with a smile and sat next to another red head boy who looked really relieved.

Cynthia rolled her eyes and muttered something that sounded like, "whatever."

At dinner we met the other three Ravenclaw girls. One was a petite black girl named Anne, who Cynthia quickly judged as "alright". She had a head full of braids and big daring eyes. I thought her pretty and I think Cynthia did too which is why she sanctioned a friendship with her. We would learn later that she was the only muggle-born among us.

The other two girls were very quiet. The tall one was called Merla and the perfect one was named Calista. I call her perfect because she was without a doubt the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I thought Merla looked very smart, with square glasses and short hair but Cynthia told me that she was probably just a "big nerd". But her harshest judgement of the day was towards Calista.

Of course as is only natural everyone wanted to talk to her. Us, the first year boys, the older student, even people from other houses kept looking back at her but through the whole dinner Calista didn't say a word - not even when people where directly addressing her. She also ate very little. And I don't think she smiled once, it was all very strange.

It was after deserts came out that Cynthia finally gave up on having a conversation with her and whispered to me: "That one is probably a big snob, from one of those old families that was placed here by freaking mistake because she obviously has the cold, cold heart of a Slytherin." She then rolled her eyes as if to say: what a pity, and I was going to offer to be her friend.

But to me it always seemed that Calista didn't want a friend.

I guess I was right about that because even though four years have passed Calista Binx is very much the same. But that might have been the only think I ever correctly judged. And things were about to get worse - a lot worse.

love always,

Iris

A/N: This was story was caused by a dangerous and possibly lethal amount of chocolate. I honestly have no idea how it occurred to me to mash these two things up. But please tell me what you think.


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